


Roundabout

by msmami



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Dirty Talk, F/F, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Table Sex, Trans Female Character, Uniform Kink, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2020-07-11 21:51:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmami/pseuds/msmami
Summary: When Talon infiltrates Route 66 in hopes of unearthing a lost treasure, the head of operations, Moira O'Deorain takes it upon herself to request the services of the local Deadlock gang.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flosscandies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flosscandies/gifts).



"Put your back into it, Caledonia!"

"It's Ashe you tub of- _Gah!_ Shit."

"Quit the chatter or I blow your head off your shoulders." 

Ashe felt the natural reflex to reach for her gun only to be hit with the stark reminder that her riffle was stowed away elsewhere under Talon surveillance. She bunched her floating hand into a fist, deciding if striking the man who hit her point blank to the back of her skull was worth the risk. 

"If she falls out of line," The woman behind this entire operation had said. "The rest of her members should follow."

It didn't take much for Ashe to decipher the meaning behind that threat and she used what little self control she had to instead force her hand back to her shovel, the ache of her fingers prompting she use what strength her grip had left to pop a bullet or knuckles between the eyes of these soldiers.

Think of Deadlock, Ashe thought begrudgingly, eyes back to the endless expanse of tan soil that she was assigned to clear out. 

The sweat on her brow was too far off from the ground in hopes to dampen and break apart the earth and maybe ease some of the tension off her worn shovel. It been over an hour and she'd barely made a dent with the worn and rusted gardening tool that would ironically make for a great weapon in a pinch.

Keep it together, Ashe. She mused, pushing an especially heavy rock aside to find smaller, similar rocks just beneath it. You're digging for treasure, not your grave. 

Ashe could count on exactly one hand how many times she's been embarrassed in public and this entire predicament was adding quite a few to that tally. The chances of having her entire crew ambushed by a single ex-partner and, what Ashe loathed to admit was an old lover, was enough to narrow herself down to her right hand's thumb and the terrorist organization that called itself Talon made the fatal mistake of adding her left index finger to that equation. 

Moira O'Deorain, the head scientist of Talon and the representative of a bigger and much more dangerous fleet of other council members Ashe had the luxury of not knowing. 

With what little information Ashe had to gather on Moira, she suspected not being the fascination of the world’s most controversial geneticist was probably a good thing. The folks Moira associated herself with could barely be registered as human beings, having been mutated or bastardized one way or another, oftentimes by their own hand or on her command.

This even applied to Moira herself who probably had the least extreme of modifications but a chilling one nonetheless. Ashe had seen her fair share of metallic replacements, just another reminder that the line between artificial and biological life were one in the same, but Moira’s butchered limb sporting long, gangly fingers and sickly nails was a line Ashe had never seen crossed.

It wasn’t just a statement, it was a weapon.

“Allow me to demonstrate,” Moira had said, signalling one of the many armed guards who accompanied her to Route 66 to take hold of one of Ashe’s men, tossing him roughly to the street as he scraped and begged for mercy.

“Be a man!” Ashe had shouted from the sidelines only for her temple to be met with the butt of a guard's gun, forcing her to watch the rest of the display from the heat stricken road.

Moira acknowledged this exclamation with nothing more than a silent stare, the man she had ordered to squabble before her being wrenched back in her grip without breaking her mismatched eyes away from Ashe’s pathetic form. No words were exchanged as she curled her fingers around a forming mass of dark energy, the bizarre metal contraption on her back whirring to life as the fluids inside began to chug into a slick pair of braces on her arm.

What kind of science made this possible was something Ashe didn’t have the knowledge to understand herself, nor did she care to as she watched one of her men making an absolute fool of himself as he gawked dumbly at the swirling darkness that anchored itself to his chest and began to- “What in the…?”

He would have been crying if he had the means to and yet her throwaway gang member used what little energy he had left to beg for Moira’s torture to cease. His skin tanned from the baking sun shriveled to a mute gray and thinned as what only Ashe could call the very essence of his soul was siphoned from his body.

The pack on Moira’s back continued to whir, and-possibly worse of all-the damn monster was smiling throughout. A look of unadulterated content and maybe some sort of sick pleasure one could only achieve from the rush of another’s agony. Moira stopped not when her victim was dead, but just barely skirting the brink of it, letting him uneventfully fall to the asphalt gasping for air.

But Ashe had made one terrible mistake with that little outburst. She had caught the attention of Moira O’Deorain.

And despite how genuinely malevolent the woman seemed to be, Ashe was honestly growing more annoyed than terrified as the days went by. Of just how stuck-up and pretentious the woman was-always giving dull stares, always shaking her head, always passing off petty insults as harmless commentary. She was what Ashe and her crew called a “know-it-all”.

Another booksmart, self important, quote spewing, upper crust education pet to the education system who’d be six feet under the sand any other day if it weren’t for this Talon nonsense ...but calling Moira a smartass worked just fine-less of a mouthful, too. Moira would actually be blessing another long, awful day of work under the sun the less she spoke, so the day she does offer a comment that isn't a proposal for longer hours in the desert or a firmly spoken threat, it throws Ashe completely for a loop:

“Your skin,”

“Huh?”

“Why do you live in such a hot climate, girl?”

Moira propped the pitch black parasol she always took outside onto her shoulder. Her expression was barely readable with the hue of her sunglasses obscuring her eyes but the tightness of her lips told the whole story. Moira's deep voice managed to break through the mind numbing drag of another work day. 

The boot is pressed down hard enough on the throat of every Deadlock member that some are forgetting to breathe in the presence of the Talon soldiers standing by and Ashe had grown accustomed to the silence. 

She had felt herself slipping into the routine of digging her heel into the end of her shovel and disposing the dirt over her shoulder, her hands ripe with sweat and her back threatening the start of a new tanline with her protective waistcoat and hat having been confiscated.

Ashe took a few careful glances around to ensure she's the one being spoken to. To test if the voice is truly a mirage or a hatred induced haze of Ashe's frustrations, she responded. 

“It’s the hair, isn’t it?”

“Unless you’ve given yourself a dye job,” Moira speculated to which Ashe responded with a shake of her head. “Ah, so you are albino. I’ve never met one in person.”

“We’re a rare species,” Ashe said, hoping her otherwise casual comment had enough bite to it. She panned over Moira’s gangly physique and lightly freckled skin, the woman being awfully pale herself. She’d get lost in the light if it weren’t for the crown of bright red hair.

“You natural?” Ashe said, pointing to her own neatly-trimmed bob cut.

Moira furrowed her brow. “Yes,”

“They say red hair is the mark of a witch,” Ashe said, placing the end of her shovel into the soil between her feet. “You wouldn’t believe the things they thought I was.”

"What kind of things?" Moira said, seeming genuinely curious. 

“You go to school and your classmates call you a ghost. You go home and your parents treat you like one,” Ashe spat on the ground, curling her lip at the memory. “Daddy told me to disappear into the mountains if I hated home so much.”

“My father didn’t like me much, either.”

“Why is that?” Ashe watched closely to see what could pass as a smile gracing the curve of Moira’s lips.

“He wanted a boy.”

* * *

The talk Ashe had with Moira seemed to take place in a time and place completely separate from the linear flow of the day’s activities. As if Ashe had stepped into a pocket dimension where she is in the most and least amount of danger as the woman causing all her misfortune struck up idle chatter.

Which in itself was odd seeing as Moira didn’t rub Ashe off as even remotely approachable, let alone up to chatting up people she deemed a lower species. Even the troops supposedly here for Moira’s safety stiffened in her presence. They were the ones armed to the teeth where in Moira passed by in nothing but crisp button ups and slacks and could still inspire bloodcurdling fear. It was clear the power this woman carried was unmatched and it drove Ashe a little crazy trying to decipher it.

With no pack or the bizarre black suit from their first meeting, Ashe had to wonder what kind of villainy a woman like Moira had to be up to behind the scenes. 

How many people had she killed? How many places has she infiltrated with little care for who or what she destroyed? 

Things Ashe would probably never know and that lingering sense of doubt is what plagues her as a nameless guard escorted her to the familiar door of Ashe's office for a private meeting. 

"Elizabeth, please take a seat."

"This is _my_ office, I'll sit where I please."

Moira offered a condescending raise of her eyebrow and it's then that Ashe notices the woman is wearing a pair of reading glasses. Memories of a very unnamused headmaster scolding her in front of her parents ringed in the back of Ashe's suppressed memories and something about the look sends a chill down her sweat stained back. Moira pointed at the seat across from her-the end of the discussion.

Ashe tried to enjoy the little time she could relish the breeze of air conditioning, pulling out a chair that's supported the asses of many a potential and current Deadlock member, the indent of the wood accommodating Ashe's body weight with a soft whine. It was a shitty, flimsy piece of wood that could very well cave the second someone gained a few extra pounds, a sharp contrast to the massive office chair right across from it. Blood red and soft to the touch, complementing the pricy desk right across from it. 

And Moira wasn't even sitting in the damn thing, instead hunched over a number of documents and the sort of map you'd see in a cheesy old western (as if Ashe was one to talk.) Ashe imagined Talon was too high tech to consider relying on a sheet of paper that could be older than her and Moira's combined age. That only made the effort Deadlock was putting in seem all the more fruitless. 

"I've done some schematics and it seems like we'll need to relocate a little farther up north," Moira said, her long nail tracing a dotted path she had supposedly created with the pen behind her ear. "I don't have much to offer in terms of my knowledge about cartography, but this map was so hastily prepared, I had to settle."

"Hand it over to me and I'll make it _real_ simple for you," Ashe replied. "A rip there, a rip here, and then we can _relocate_ this to the trash."

"Elizabeth, I'm trying to be civil."

"If you wanna be civil, stop calling me Elizabeth!"

Moira chuckled, "Most people I work with aren't even allowed to look me in the eye, let alone call me by my name. You should be happy I even let you in here without a knife to your throat." 

"So you're the head bitch of your part of town?"

"More like I'm the head bitch of the most advanced academy in the world and one of many head bitches of the Talon council," Moira replied, placing a hand on her narrow waist. "And what are you in charge of again? A few square miles of sand and the idiots that still choose to live on it? Some kingdom you have, dear." 

Ashe bolted from her chair, a fist slamming into the wood of the desk but not enough to make Moira flinch. "Listen here, red. You disrespect my town, you disrespect my crew, but you sure as hell aren't disrespecting me in my _fucking_ office. The way we handle things around here is a little more old fashion. None of this...military b.s. So you wanna fight me like the leader you say you are or like some sick, sad coward?" 

Moira quirked her brow, removing her glasses and placing them delicately on top of the map. "We don't need to fight, Elizabeth. If anything, I want as little bloodshed as possible. If we're lucky, we might have a few causalities from heatstroke but that's none of my concern."

Ashe felt something inside her snap, grabbing Moira by the end of her tie and yanking the woman as far as she could across the desk, noses near touching. "That's my crew you're throwing under the bus, missy. Perhaps you have cotton in your ears, but I decide who lives and dies." 

Moira chuckled, giving the hand nearly choking her a condescending pat. "You've made your point. Very well, perhaps you and I didn't start off on the right foot."

"That's an understatement,"

"But I am wiling to negotiate a few terms so things can go along smoother," Moira said, pulling Ashe's hand off her tie and sitting back in the chair to readjust her shirt. "I actually called you over here to discuss putting an agreement in writing. It's only fair that we reach a compromise before anyone gets hurt." 

"Seriously?"

"This may not have reached you on your side of the world, but the old west has been over for years," Moira said, opening a drawer on the desk and pulling out not only a stack of official-looking documents but a familiar wide brimmed black hat, crumpled slightly from the shoddy storage. "Though I see your fashion sense hasn't caught up with that notion."

"Gimmie that!" Ashe swiped the hat from Moira's claw-like grip, straightening out the fabric before propping it on her messy hair. She'd need a shower that lasted longer than three minutes and permission to get anything sharper than a comb to look half way decent again, but something about having her trademark stetson back on her head felt like order was returning. A fleeting victory, but she'd take it. 

Ashe sighed, hands on her hips as she took what time she had to be taller than the now seated Moira. "Any of your little lackeys a lawyer?"

"How cute, you know what a lawyer is," Moira said, organizing the papers on the table. "But no, I spoke to some of my associates back at Talon and had something faxed over today. This is a group project, after all."

Ashe rolled her eyes, as if this was the negotiation of a much pettier cause than slave labor. Ashe knew how cold and distant she could be, going as far as inflicting harsh punishments on her crew if they proved to be sub-par. 

Tyranny could be punishable by death, trying to leave her gang out of a casket was a major no-no, and Ashe was no stranger to cutting off the weakest link if tough times called for it. All part of her duties as a leader-feelings and sentiments be damned-but Moira was really something else.

The sheer audacity of this woman to speak with such poise and self taught arrogance, to be this pretentious and yet playful all at once. Ashe couldn't make sense of Moira over the few days they've known each other and yet every part that tried to put any logic behind Moira's being advised her that her mind was better put to other things. Like seeking out shadows in the night, like recalling a bad dream, all leading to something worse than what she could ever imagine.

"We'll see about that," Ashe said sitting back down and observing her share of papers.

It took a good couple of minutes, but the contract proved be far more flexible than Ashe had expected. Even without her input, what was there to offer on Talon's side of the equation was nothing short of humane and fair. Longer breaks, days off, even discussions of payment and the open option for Deadlock to retrieve the services of Talon the near future. Not that Ashe would ever take up the offer, but at least the fine print wasn't hiding anything suspicious. 

Moira assured that the contract wasn't binding and could very well expire within a few months if action wasn't placed. It was entirely up to her if she chose to let Deadlock be caught in the vice grip of Talon, and Moira by association. Optional or not, Ashe had weaseled her way out of worse deals and the few benefits this partnership could offer could be an exploitable advantage some day.

"I imagine this is up to your standards," Moira said, her glasses back on as she offered a warm yet condescending smile. "I know this was a rough start, but when I voiced my interest in exploring the benefits of pursuing Deadlock, Talon saw a number of options. Though a bit...dated, your ambition and management skills are hard to ignore."

"I thought I was just some nobody."

"Oh, you are..." Moira replied. "At least for now, until we give you and your gang some necessary upgrades. Once we sort out this little treasure hunt, we can really get down to important matters."

Ashe sharply exhaled through her nose, having already burned out her usually limitless anger with her earlier outburst. "Fine, where do I sign?"

"No need for a signature," Moira said, her smile losing the faintest illusion of kindness from before. "I think something else could better represent your new found loyalty to me."

"This a _compromise_ ," Ashe said through her teeth, watching closely as Moira rolled out from the chair, walking in slow strides towards her. "Doesn't mean I gotta like you."

"That's a shame, I was almost starting to like you." Moira leaned down, cupping Ashe's face in her hands and placing a long, lingering kiss on a pair of now lightly scarred and chapped lips. 

Ashe's first instinct was to bolt from her seat, maybe deck Moira's sharp jaw, and yet she felt frozen. Not quite kissing back, but standing her ground as Moira's tongue explored her mouth, long fingers scrapping at the nape of her neck. Like being ensnared in the bite of a rattlesnake, she knew struggling would just make it worse.

Moira pulled away, her grin wide with arousal that Ashe was ashamed to admit was mutual. "Thank you for signing our agreement, dear." 

“I figured a signature was what we were aiming for.”

“Oh, how silly of me.” Moira said, her hand down the waistband of Ashe’s panties in a flash. Ashe shivered, not just from the prick of acrylic nails brushing over her cunt but the icy touch of Moira’s mutation. 

Ashe gasped as Moira’s fingers slipped deeper inside, collecting the moisture that had accumulated just from that one kiss. Drawing her hand out, a string of slick broke off her fingers, rubbing the liquid over the dotted line at the bottom of the contract. 

“There, isn’t that better?”

Ashe grimaced, “Much.”

* * *

The talk in the office had done a number on Ashe's already crumbling psyche. She still woke up everyday in hopes this entire invasion was nothing more than a dream, that Moira didn't exist and that Talon ruining her little piece of paradise was all an elaborate metaphor of her fears of losing control over her new life. 

But everyday she still wakes up to the barking of a new guard with the same armor and build, to the taste of Moira's tongue on her lips that she's tried and failed to wash out with lukewarm water and a smoke break. Nothing works, nothing goes away. 

"Elizabeth," Moira's voice called from behind her and Ashe hates herself for the way it makes her posture stiffen. Rubbing the sweat from her brow, Ashe turned to face her. 

"Anything I can do for you, ma'am?"

"I just wanted to give you a status update," Moira said and it's then that Ashe notices Moira isn't carrying around a parasol but instead a sunhat of about the same width and color. Sunglasses back on, at least Ashe doesn't have to worry about making direct eye contact. "I've relocated a few of your members to the hills and a few more in the valley. Upon studying the soil there, we noticed some minor inconsistencies and thought we might find some more interesting results."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

Moira cocked her head. "I was under the assumption these were your allies, maybe even friends."

"They are," Ashe said. "But...I've been willing to reconsider a few things as of late. You've done your best to be fair and perhaps I haven't been meeting you halfway."

Moira honestly looks surprised, a long finger to her chin. " _Oh?_ "

"Don't get the wrong idea," Ashe added. "I much prefer you plummet off the nearest cliff, but until the day you...accidentally stumble into that predicament, I suppose I can give you the benefit of the doubt."

Moira chuckled, her laugh starting off low and dangerous until it grows into nothing short of a witch's mad cackle. Ashe's arm is trapped in the iron grip of Moira's hand, being pulled flush against the taller woman whose sunglasses reflected her panicked stare right back at her.

"It takes an awful lot of pride to put your own life on the line," Moira said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Elizabeth, you see your gang as family, right? Be a shame if their metaphorical mother figure died with a bullet in her skull because she said the wrong thing at the wrong time."

Ashe pursed her lip, the sting of Moira's long nails overwhelming the thin skin of her arm. Moira accepted this silence as an answer and once again Ashe feels like a snake is squeezing the life out of her before sinking the killing bite into her throat. It feels so uncharacteristic. 

Ashe was rarely ever one to be hushed so easily by a foe, in fact, she was normally the one who sparked feuds with her infamously dirty mouth, and yet she couldn't find the motivation to budge or speak. 

“Or, better yet, I can have my soldiers retrieve my pack and absorb every last drop of energy you have to offer,” Moira said. “It be one of few things I haven’t been able to taste myself.”

“Real classy,”

"Reconsider this, Elizabeth. Think about what position you're in right now and that means for you and your little 'family'," Moira said. "For now, for the duration that I'm here, you have one job. No robbing, no looting, not one of your silly little standoffs under the sunlight-none of that nonsense. Your job is to keep me satisfied which, in turn, keeps you alive."

Ashe narrowed her eyes and yet her stare didn't match the pure fear Moira's look could create. Ashe needed a few hours in front of the mirror with a eyeliner pencil and the dramatic shading of her hat to create this kind of menacing energy and Moira seemed to have it hardwired into her system. Nothing Ashe would admit out loud as she couldn't even decide if this was a sign of terror or respect. 

Ashe sighed, offering a half smile. "Maybe you are right, red. My apologies. Give me another chance and I won't step on your toes again."

"Oh, I know you can do better than that, Elizabeth."

"Then please, show me what 'better' looks like, your majesty."

That comment gave Ashe the strike to the face she was already bracing herself for, her weight giving in on itself as Moira released her arm and the little stability that gave her. Ashe ungracefully fell to the sand, the sting of Moira's open palm leaving the ghost of a mark on her skin. Her hat fluttered off her head, landing right beside her to add sand and dirt to the week's worth of dust.

From below was truly the way to see Moira O'Deorain, scrabbling around closer to earth as not to overwhelm such a powerful force of a woman. The way the sunlight burned brightly behind Moira like a halo, like the biblical interpretations of angels whose many mouths breathed in sinners and shitted them into the depths of hell fire. Before Ashe could think to get up, Moira's boot heel pressed into her chest.

"You know I hate this as much as you do," Moira said. "But I guess I do get something out of it: watching pathetic little insects like yourself desperate for your cut. This is more or less a side project and on any other day Talon, let alone myself, would never waste time with some silly children playing dress up." 

"I think you'll see I have a habit of getting what I want."

"Not without your daddy's paycheck, you are."

"Now you-Fuck, _ah!_ "

Ashe was kicked onto her stomach, Moira immediately gripping her by the hips and forcing the gang leader onto all fours. Her jeans and underwear went down in one pull. Ashe grimaced and yet couldn't bring herself to make herself more presentable. That weird time bubble was back, that strange limbo between reality and a dream that Ashe couldn't make sense of. 

"If you're going to act like an animal, you'll be treated like one." Moira's voice was low and menacing from above, the sound of a belt buckle and zipper accompanying it like a miniature fanfare. "It's a shame, Elizabeth. After all that time we spent trying to negotiate, you still don't know how to behave." 

"You shouldn't treat your investments so roughly," Ashe sneered, leaning forward as if to better present Moira her prize for that afternoon. The faintest breeze the desert had blessed them with today lightly blew over her bare ass, the little white hairs and subtle signs of aging on her pale skin hot to the touch under the sun's rays. "Though I can't say I'm all that fragile."

Ashe definitely would have liked a heads up that Moira wanted to fuck her and yet getting her jeans ripped off for the world to see was somehow the _least_ inappropriate thing that's happened to her outside of a bar. But of course, they both knew this wasn't any old fashioned tango. This was an assertion of power first and foremost-their compromise. 

Moira had already touched her cunt, felt her juices, kissed her-and all before they could have anything that even remotely resembled a date. Ashe shouldn’t have been so surprised, or perhaps she really was that dense.

Ashe's peripheral vision could barely make out Moira rolling her eyes, continuing where she left off. Moira penetrated the meat of Ashe’s otherwise narrow physique, a soft squelch of flesh on flesh filling the air that was once claimed by the buzzing of passing mosquitoes and vultures hovering above. That and Ashe’s yelp followed by soft whimpers punctuated by Moira’s rhythmic pounding made the scene an unmistakable act of vulgarity. In public, no less.

Ashe would pay this no mind any other day as she very well owned these streets and would make that clear through a combination of intimidation and stray bullets. Her own fluids would bare the same meaning as a stick of dynamite to anyone wise enough to fear her, but today was vastly different than the rest. The status quo of her iron will was splitting at the seams and the control and dignity she so desperately desired was gone as quickly as her pants.

"My, you're tight," Moira said, giving Ashe's ass a quick slap. "And there's no need denying you aren't enjoying yourself, Elizabeth. I can smell your arousal just fine."

“Just, hurry up-!” Ashe said, trying to push her hips back as quickly as she could. Like masturbating in her bedroom before her parents came home, Ashe needed to come quickly and quietly and revel in the shame later. But not today, things were never that simple with O'Deorain.

“Hush," Moira said, a finger to her lips. "We have an audience.” 

“A wha…?” Ashe turned as much Moira would allow, eyes blowing wide at the sight forming beside them. Likely being escorted to the locations Moira had informed her about, a number of members walked by with a shovel or pickaxe in hand, expressions blank and staring.

It must have been a nice site, seeing their leader being bent over and used so easily, fucked like this whole thing was routine or had the potential to be one. Ashe felt color rush to her usually pale face, her cheeks redder than her long forgotten lipstick as she bit back a sob.

What are you lookin’ at, she wanted to shout to the onlookers but her face was half smothered against the dirt, Moira’s hand gripping her skull and keeping it pressed down to the hot soil as she continued to buck her hips forward. Ashe would probably pass out if she weren’t so used to the dry, dreadful climate here and even Moira who was used to the dreary cold of her home country didn’t once stop to collect the sweat on her brow.

“Not living up to their expectations, are we?”

“You’re just as exposed as I am, you bitch.” Ashe half growled, half whispered as her tongue tasted sand. “Some civilized noblewoman you are. You have no right talking down to me.”

“In this position, I don’t have much of a choice.” 

Moira punctuated this with another push of her hips, earning a muffled scream out of Ashe as she still tried to keep her voice down. Ashe’s face squeezed into a grimace as her crew looked on, faces obscured by bandannas or Omnics without the facial compartments to properly emote, but it was all evident in their body language. The way they were staring, the hint of a smile or agape mouth under the cloth, the tent of a certain someone’s pants-

“B.O.B, do something!”

Not one to disobey his coding, her butler was down the dusty road in a few seconds flat, his massive feet shaking the ground with each step. B.O.B gave a slight tilt of his head to get a read on his mistress’ request before immediately shooing away the rest of the gang that seemed to awestruck by the moment to consider moving.

“Aw, and I was almost willing to let them join us.”

“Shut the fuck up,” 

“I don’t care much for men, but I’m certain your ‘family’ would appreciate the chance to relieve their stress,” Moira said. “Now Ashe, would you consider them your sons or your brothers?”

Ashe growled but her body conflicted with her tone as she pushed up a little higher to better accommodate Moira’s member. Even Moira shivered at this, taking one of her hands off of Ashe’s head to instead focus all of her attention on properly pounding the gang leader’s ass.

Long nails dug into Ashe’s sides as her fucking became all that deeper, a wet thrusting that transitioned over to something just a little more sloppy the more she continued. Was she going to cum? Ashe whined, chewing her bottom lip at the thought of Moira emptying her load into her ass. 

She thought about Moira slathering her cheeks in creamy white cum and leaving her abused hole leaking as the hot sun baked the scent into her skin. She’d be a proper whore, the kind of woman her parents always warned about.

“Mm, fuck. Yes, yes…yes...Huh?”

But like a cork in a bottle, Moira’s cock left her ass with a wet pop. “Wh-wait? What’s going on?”

Ashe turned around to see Moira looking down at her, a single hand pumping away at an erect and twitching cock dribbling cum from the head. Ashe let out a downright embarrassing sound, crawling on her hands and knees. 

“Please...please, ma’am. Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” 

Moira shook her head, back to her in-control demeanor despite the fierce grip she had on her member, this close to spilling her load onto a thirsty ground that didn’t deserve it. Ashe worked for this and to think it would all go to waste because Moira wanted to be a tease.

Ashe’s cunt twitched, clamping her thighs around her arousal as she opened her mouth. Tongue lulling out far enough to collect drool as she inched her body as close as she could without completely pressing her face into the warm, hanging balls of Moira’s sack.

Moira laughed, grabbing a fistful of Ashe’s hair. “You want my cum that bad, cowgirl?”

Ashe only nodded, drool spilling passed the sides of her chin.

“You think you’ve worked for this? That you deserve every drop I have in me?”

Ashe’s nails dug into the sand, knowing just how much of a disgusting, desperate dog of a woman she must have looked like. She didn’t care, though. Like a drunken harlot, the only thing on her mind was the evidence of Moira’s satisfaction covering her face. And if not her face than her belly or her back or her hair. 

Moira showed a near inhuman amount of poise as she continued to masturbate, bending over to pick up the wide brimmed black hat she had yanked from Ashe’s head not too long ago all in one swift motion.

“What are you…?”

A cruel smile spread over her face as she saw the horror overtake Ashe, the gang leader watching in a bizarre limbo of feral arousal and confusion as Moira cupped her twitching cock with the bottom of the hat, releasing every drop of her semen inside. She didn’t even moan, keeping her mismatched eyes locked on the gang leader who only had so much dignity to spare. 

That same special brand of sadism flashed across Moira’s face, the same look when they first met that shook Ashe to her core.

Moira then unceremoniously dropped the hat on the ground as if she were disposing of a used condom, the contents painting the pretty black fabric of Ashe’s favorite accessory a transparent, almost off-color shade of white-possibly ruining it forever. 

If not with stains then stench, and if not, then a permanent memory of Ashe at her lowest point.

“Get back to work,” Moira said, tucking her soft cock back into her slacks and turning on the heel of her shoes before she left.

* * *

"Are you absolutely _certain_ we've observed the entire area?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Moira chewed her bottom lip, hands on her hips as she took a second to think over the nameless soldier's words. All those in the vicinity were wise to not only avoid her gaze but not turn away from their work. Even if the patch of dirt Ashe was digging would only lead to more dirt, there was something kind of euphoric about knowing it might be the last time. The word "might" hung heavy in the air, like it always did, but something about it didn't seem like a false promise. 

It been a full three weeks now with no results and no casualties. A promising contract kept it that way, at least making such a long and pointless endeavor less bloody. 

And less smelly, Ashe thought as she thought about the shower she could take after this, her “signature” certifying it could be just a few minutes longer. They were quickly approaching the hour to head back inside, the night due for thunderstorms that would wear out Ashe's omnic members too quickly. 

Feeling cocky, Ashe propped her worn shovel over her shoulder, grin wide and snobby. “Not quite what you expected, aye?”

“We can learn from our failures,” Moira said, her tone surprisingly controlled without any of the underlying malice Ashe had gotten used to. “Perhaps my associates got ahead of themselves…” 

Moira sighed, removing the sunglasses pinned to her shirt collar and using a small handkerchief to polish the lens. “...Elizabeth, if you’d be so kind, do you think you can join me in the office?”

Oh, so it was _the_ office now. Not Ashe’s. Not Moira’s. Just _the_ office. 

Ashe wondered if this phrasing was part of a loophole. “As you command, your highness.” 

Ashe did a half bow much to Moira’s annoyance before turning in the direction of the office building. A sharp crack of thunder was heard overhead, lightning illuminating the dark clouds slowly drawing its way into the sky.

Ashe managed to slip inside and switch on the light before the first raindrop could hit her head, the incoming rainfall pattering against the sturdy wood structure. She was all alone in her special sanctuary and yet she still felt like an invader.

She tried to shake off the anxiety, walking over to her desk that wasn’t the worse for wear despite having to shoulder Moira’s ass for a few weeks. The contract, the map, about everything was gone and likely stored away somewhere safer. Not that Ashe cared about exploiting such vital documents now that her suffering was finally drawing to a lackluster but satisfying conclusion.

She popped open one of the drawers, grabbing the small hand mirror she was glad to see hadn’t been broken. Ashe could hardly recognize herself, seeming to have aged ten years with the unkind sun having baked her skin to gooseflesh. 

Without her makeup, the imperfections of her visage are all the more obvious. Her albinism and age assured that with only powder and red lipstick could she conceal her pale mouth and off color eyelids.

She pushed back her overgrown bangs and sighed. She was also well due for a trim and lots of shampoo, all things she could relish in the luxuries of very soon. Ashe’s hair had gone through a few rough transitions from youth to her late adult years and she had ironically settled on a far more tame look than the one she had as a child.

Sure, her parents wouldn’t have approved of her chopping off a significant half of her white locks for a sort of a slanted bob cut that obscured half her face, but this is the healthiest and softest it’s looked since high school. Speaking of which…

Ashe nudged the bottom desk drawer open with her foot to see the contents the same as she left it. Under a floorboard or a chest protected under lock and key would be more ideal, but the tight restrictions that she and her crew had to work under with Talon watching wouldn’t even let her keep a particularly sharp belt buckle on hand.

Ashe knelt down and rummaged around inside, happy to see the mementos of her past that she kept stowed away in here weren’t touched. In this drawer were some of the less dreadful parts of her childhood-a scrapbook, some postcards, a music box, and cushioning it all was the most intact but certainly most outgrown of the items-her old school uniform. 

A white button up, plaid skirt, and black sweater vest barring the insignia of her old prep school on the left breast now smelled like dust and worn wood. Ashe pulled out the old clothes, now small and ill fitting even in her hands.

Moira had probably seen all this and was either too considerate or mulling over a crueler fate if she only considered it good enough to stow away Ashe’s hat. The emotional leverage probably wasn’t that important, just the then and now of Ashe’s agony.

“Nah,” Ashe said to herself, tossing the uniform down on the desk. “That’s giving her too much credit.”

She felt herself flinch as the door opened, Moira stepping her way inside with a wet umbrella by her side. “Ah, I see you’ve finally managed to follow a basic command.”

Ashe didn’t acknowledge that with a response, curling her lip instead.

“Don’t give me that look, I’m already feeling embarrassed enough. And being in this backwards hellhole has been its own trial,” Moira said, tossing the umbrella aside and stepping towards Ashe. “The weather is dreadful, the coffee even more so. There isn’t a single working gas station for miles and I can’t for the life of me stand the insufferable Southern drawl you people pass off as the English language.”

“Oh, well I’m so sorry you couldn’t be in Paris getting your feet rubbed,” Ashe rolled her eyes. “You poor, poor thing.”

“My time here was always limited,” Moira explained. “I didn’t find what I was looking for, so I have no choice but to leave you…” Moira’s voice trailed off, her mismatched eyes zeroing in on something else.

Ashe cocked a brow. “Speak up, red.”

Moira’s eyes traveled to the clothes tossed carelessly onto the desk and the gang leader cursed herself silently for her sloppiness. 

“Something important, I assume.”

“Not to you,” Ashe spat, moving to shove the uniform back into the drawer and end this conversation much quicker.

“You did tell me about how you were treated in school, Elizabeth. I’ve heard of this academy, it’s awful prestigious.”

Moira walked over and plucked the sweater vest out before Ashe could reach to grab it. 

“Give that back!”

Moira instead inspected the fabric, unfolding it and holding it out as if to frame Ashe’s torso.

“You’ve certainly grown over the years,” Moira said, the advantage of her height making it much easier to hold the sweater right out of Ashe’s reach. “I wonder if you can still squeeze yourself into this.”

Ashe stopped herself from the mildly childish hopping she had resorted to, her face fiercely flushed over with blush. “Y-you have got the nerve to-”

“I mostly came here to tell you that Talon may have found the activity we’re looking for closer to Australia, Junkertown, specifically.” Moira said. “So me and my associates will be relocating tonight.”

“You’re just…” 

Moira really was leaving Route 66. No more interference with Talon, no slave labor. Ashe could return to her usual affairs across the US with no one to check her except herself.

As things should be, and yet, Ashe could feel what she hoped wasn’t a frown tugging at her mouth at the thought.

“Elizabeth,” Moira said, this time the one to notice the silence. “Anything the matter? I was wondering if I could request one last favor.”

“You’ve been up my ass since you got here,” Ashe said, her mind throwing in a sarcastic _literally_. “What else could you want?”

Moira smiled, tossing the sweater back to Ashe. “I’d love to see you in this before I go.”

Ashe skewered her brow, honestly awestruck at such a lowbrow request. “So it’s schoolgirls that do it for you? Sick fuck.”

“We all have our vices,” Moira said, crossing her arms. “It’s just one small thing before I go. It could be years before we see one another again, my dear.”

There’s that pang of sadness again and Ashe tried to fight off the cocktail of emotions pulling her mind this way and that. 

Managing a faint, if somewhat bashful, smile, she nodded. “Courtesy of the Deadlock Gang, red.”

* * *

“Well, aren’t you lovely? Like a proper lady.”

“Shut the hell up,”

“I’m just enjoying the one decent thing on this detour,” Moira said, her grin insufferably smug. “I must say, this view was well worth the trip.”

“Fuck…” 

Ashe crossed her arms, trying to cover herself as much as her clothing would allow. Given her height and physique, her old uniform was less than suitable for a woman of her years.

The white shirt was awful snug on her longer torso and the small swell of her chest. Hips and thighs once far more narrow couldn’t accommodate the tiny skirt that used to be able to reach her knees.

She looked like a cheap pinup star, like a model on a fold out near the outhouse, and yet this is the last image high and mighty Moira O’Deorain would have of her. 

“So fascinating how our bodies can change,” Moira walked a few long circles around Ashe, a hand to her chin as if she were observing a museum piece or zoo animal. “How you’ve grown, my dear.”

“Yeah, that happens give or take a decade- _Ahh!_ ”

Ashe yelped as Moira grabbed a handful of her ass. Moira pressed herself against Ashe’s back, grinning into the gang leader’s ear as she took a long whiff of the woman’s hair. “You might already be able to tell, but I find you simply _irresistible_.”

“Is that so?” Ashe breathed out it in a shudder, feeling Moira’s cock stiffening against the thin cotton of her panties.

“Mm,” Moira hummed, her other hand snaking around to slip under Ashe’s shirt. “Like a guilty pleasure, really. A greasy, rancid piece of junk food to indulge in. You’re foul in all the ways I want…”

Moira tightened her grip around Ashe’s ass, her long nails leaving small indents. Moira purred, “Will you let me taste you, Ashe? This one last time?”

The rational part of Ashe was downright insulted by the offer. To know Moira really did perceive her as nothing more than an item on these travels.

Ashe was the most dreaded woman on this side of town and yet Moira and her Talon troops had the audacity to challenge that, to literally strip away what Ashe had worked for. If the wrong people had seen any of this, known what terrible things and negotiations had to be made to keep herself and her crew alive, Ashe could never live it down.

And yet, there was a lump in her throat that seemed to be insinuating she would regret saying no, like this was a woman-hell, an opportunity-that Ashe would only get to have once in a lifetime. She had left behind her old life to seek new opportunities, not run away from them, no matter how embarrassing or traumatizing it might be.

Ashe swallowed around her doubt, shooting Moira a half smile. “Lead the way, ma’am.”

Ashe was tugged backwards to the desk, thrown down into the old wood with the air getting knocked out of her as her back slammed against it.

“Nice to see you know your place,” Moira said, trailing her long nails over the thin fabric of Ashe’s shirt and the exposed torso beneath it. “Uncivilized little cowgirls like you need that sort of order in your life, to remember you’re beneath the true leaders of the world.”

“You gonna quit flappin’ your gums or take your share?” Ashe reached into her panties and spread her cunt open with two fingers, the hot slick that had collected over their conversation prompting no use for lube. “Hate for you to miss your flight.”

While Moira was wasting her breath, she may as well put her cock to good use. A white lie Ashe told herself, giving herself an air of authority she simply didn’t have whenever Moira was present.

As much as Ashe wanted to convince herself that Moira was bending to her will, she knew deep down that her own body was the real prize this lonesome evening.

She may as well be a flesh light for the way Moira looked at her, a thing to be used, and that cold malice of Moira’s entire being awakened a sort of twisted want in Ashe’s person.

Moira wasted no time slipping her cock into Ashe’s eager pussy, spreading her open and securing herself inside with a single push. Ashe was already drooling out of her cunt and probably wouldn’t last long, her core clenching as she lulled her head back, a soft “yes” on her lips.

“Desperate,” Moira shook her head, planting a firm kiss on Ashe’s lips before she began thrusting. “No one’s shown you love before, have they?”

Ashe didn’t reply, instead grabbing Moira’s bony wrists so she felt just a little more anchored to the moment. To imagine that Moira O'Deorain was capable of love was a bold claim. Ashe often wondered if she could after her bitter childhood grew her into a bitter adult. 

Hating her parents, hating Mccree, hating Moira and her stupid posse who chose to ruin her credibility out of pure chance. 

Just like before, their fucking had nothing to do with affection or good will and that was the way it was supposed to be. The sick irony of Ashe taking a cock in her old school uniform, the fact she may never even see Moira's pointy face again after tonight, the fact that even in the privacy of the office that Ashe's moans and the rocking of the desk was loud enough for any passing members to know who Ashe was bending over for again.

Moira hiked up Ashe’s shirt and sweater in one pull, fondling the small but perky breasts just beneath it. “You gonna show me your goods, too?”

Moira chuckled, undoing just a few buttons of her dress shirt to reveal the lack of a bra and a pair of tits that were small and pale even compared to Ashe’s modest size. Moira gripped her left breast in her hand as she continued to push her hips forward, chewing her bottom lip as she groped herself.

“I can say I feel less insecure about my bra size now,” Moira said. “Or, lack thereof. I’d put my cock between your tits but it’s just-.” Moira pushed in deeper, now balls deep in the gang leader who craned her back from the strain. “-after being stuck in the rain, I need somewhere _warm_ to relieve myself.”

“Wait are you gonna-?”

“Let’s keep you warm, Elizabeth.” Moira said and the words are this strange combination of a razor edged threat and a silky sweet nothing all in one.

As Moira’s nails dug into the sensitive skin of Ashe’s exposed hips, her pace increased. Ashe gasped, eyes wedging shut as she tried to return the fierce pounding half way but was more or less along for the ride while her body rocked with the motion of the desk. 

As Moira continued to thrash inside her-that pale, thick cock deep in her guts-she felt her body give up entirely. Any and all tension gone, pussy still tight and tears spilling over her cheeks. Her mouth dribbled as much as her aching cunt, way past the point of sensitivity as Moira continued to pound her pussy.

“M-Moira…” Ashe whined, the grip on the woman’s wrists slipping just slightly. “Moira, please, ma’am- _Fuck, Ah!_ "

Ashe bit her lip as Moira's cum flooded her pussy, her knees buckling through her own orgasm that only made her shame more messy. Tears and stars filled her vision as the overhead light was suddenly too much for her sensitive eyes, Moira shifting slightly to grab Ashe by the cheeks, turning her face. "It's been a pleasure, Elizabeth."

"The feeling's not mutual," This earned a smirk from Moira and a small kiss on the forehead before she pulled her limp member out, cum dribbling out of Ashe’s cunt without a cock to keep it all inside. 

Mora cleaned the head of her dick between Ashe’s thighs before crawling off the desk. Ashe, for whatever reason, felt like she wasn’t permitted to stand up. Moira addressed a low ringing of her ear piece, putting her finger to it and nodding and humming in acknowledgment.

“I’ll be there soon,” she said. “Be careful of the storm, we need to get out of this part of the sky as soon as possible.”

She turned her attention back to Ashe, putting her hands behind her back. “I’m afraid it’s time for me to go. Please do keep in contact with me if you would like to consider finalizing your contract with Talon. I personally think you’d be an amazing asset to us.”

Ashe smirked. “Oh, not stopping by for any surprise visits? I almost think I’m gonna miss you.”

Moira laughed softly, buttoning up her shirt as she made her way towards the office door, umbrella tucked under her arm.

“Not to worry, Elizabeth. I did leave a small reminder of our time together. You’ll see it in about…” Moira pretended to think. “A month? Maybe nine depending on scheduling. I’m sure that’s enough time to pick out a name them.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Ashe rose herself out of sleep with labored breath, bracing herself against the soft but rickety build of her duvet as she tried to guide her feet down to the carpet without blowing out her back. She’d normally request B.O.B’s assistance with such a task, as she has for the past three months, but the smell of bacon and fried eggs from the other room acts as its own motivation. 

Considerate of her butler to jump to preparing breakfast as soon as his mistress was awakening. She could be awful grouchy-well, grouchier-with hunger on her mind and the stress on her stomach tended to subside if it wasn’t growling.

Finding her balance, she stretched out her back, taking her time to walk out of her bedroom and into the humble but homey kitchen. If B.O.B were just a few inches taller, he’d be touching the ceiling but his programming would ensure he’d always find a way to make sure his master was fed and happy-or at least one of those two things. 

Greeting her with a low bow of his head, he put down a platter of warm food on the table and got into position by the nearest wall as he watched the door. Not that he had to, what with Talon out of Ashe’s hair and Deadlock back to being under her thumb, but the ensuring embarrassment of any other foes or Mccree finding her in such a state was something she rather not think about.

The year had already been rough enough and Mccree’s absence had only made things a little easier on her sanity. 

She began eating promptly, shoveling as much as she could into her cheeks without choking. Her meal today was enough for two people and she’d probably be demanding lunch a mere hour afterwards. 

B.O.B strode over quietly to refill her coffee, getting nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement from his mistress. Ashe’s usual coldness was nothing new to him but the gesture had just that touch of sincerity. With the time they’ve been spending together, Ashe could admit the two of them had only gotten closer in these past few months than they did her entire life.

Omnics couldn’t have children and many anti-omnic news presses discouraged the innovation of non organic babysitters, but B.O.B had proven to be such an excellent caretaker, she was one step closer each day to making him a godfather. 

“Good work,” She said and B.O.B promptly began clearing off the table, only to be interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. 

“Ughh, what is it now? Fuck, B.O.B help me up.”

It was luckily a short journey from the dining room to the door but Ashe is already counting her breaths by the time they reach it. 

Before them stood one of her gang members, already holding his signature riffle as though a threat were present. 

His face was featureless and was another model incapable of speech, forcing the member to simply gesture towards the open road with a wave of his hand. Ashe rolled her eyes, snapping her fingers for B.O.B to escort her outside.

With her hand easily dwarfed by his own massive metal grip, she was guided out into the unforgiving sun which her gang was taking a well deserved break from under some shade. And yet their guards were up, guns drawn and mostly using the shadows as cover as the stretch limo reeled into view. 

Featureless with glossy black paint and tinted windows, not even the license plate revealed much of anything.

Ashe was almost willing to pass it off as any old passersby but that was her tired legs and weak knees encouraging she make this a quick encounter. Any other day and she’d give the order to fire but a year had told her an even head could keep her and her folks out of trouble much quicker. 

Her members were giving her cautious looks, as the limbo hovered to a stop, unease in the air as they wondered who should shoot first. The sniper up on the bridge if it was truly that important, then let the rifles loose if they were dealing with a militia. 

But the man who opened the door and stepped out with a humble swagger looked too meager and weak to pose any real threat, something his blank expression made aware as he ignored the red dots tracing his skeleton and walked to the back of the car. 

“Pardon?” Ashe said from the distance B.O.B would let her walk, the man not paying her any mind as he opened the passenger seat and promptly bowed to a long pair of legs peeking out from a velvety inside. “You know it’s rude to-.”

Ashe nearly swallowed her own words, finally finding the ability to stand up straight again as she made out the figure standing up from the vehicle. 

The gang let out a collective shiver, guns shoved out of site despite the woman not having the full stock of soldiers she had arrived with months ago to defend her. Removing her sunglasses and shaking out her hair, Moira shielded her eyes from the sun, squinting to make out Ashe in the distance. 

“Elizabeth!” She said warmly. “It’s been so long, dear!”

* * *

“B.O.B, you’re looking well...and I must say this tea is delicious.” 

B.O.B offered his best attempt at a smile before ducking out of the dining room, leaving Moira and Ashe in what was already sterile silence. Tea time was less a discussed decision and more something B.O.B’s coding insisted was perfect for breaking awkward tension. What he couldn’t do with words he could accomplish with his excellent brewing skills. God, bless his metallic heart, he was definitely the only one trying.

Moira drank to the lemon slice in her own cup, placing the cup down with a sigh of relief. “My, that was delightful. Oasis is filled to the gills with Waitrons and not a single buttler unit. I know they’re a bit expensive, but I’m sure we could squeeze a few into the budget.”

Ashe didn’t look up from her own serving of tea, still steaming hot with a fresh lemon slice floating to the top, some sugar dotted around the porcelain. B.O.B would take offense otherwise but her usually ravenous appetite had suddenly ceased. She knew she would end up spitting back up her drink and making a mess of Moira’s clean white shirt-not the worst idea, actually.

“Elizabeth-”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Ashe said, standing up and nearly throwing her chair to the floor with the motion. Without her boots or her usual day attire, it didn’t quite have that kick to it, but Moira very well got the point.

Moira breathed quickly out of her nose, her lips pursed into a line as she ran a long nail over the rim of her cup. “I was just here to check up on you, dear.”

“Ain’t that a hoot,” Ashe said. “You disappear for six months and this is your idea of a warm welcome?”

“I gave you all the means possible to contact me,” Moira said. “If you were having any problems I’m sure Talon would have offered their assistance.”

“Oh I’m sorry! It’s just that terrorist organization and daycare center aren’t that close in the phone book.”

Moira rolled her eyes. “I know I put you in a compromising position the last time we met, but I assumed at this point you would have ridden yourself of the child by now. And if not now then later.”

Ashe’s face softened, her voice still low and bitter. “It’s not like I didn’t think about it…”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because…” Ashe felt a lump in her throat that wasn’t there before, picking up her chair and sitting back down when she felt her knees ache from the stress of her stomach. “Because, I wouldn’t exactly consider that I good idea, alright.”

“Well from a career standpoint-if you could call what you do a career-I’d think a child would be a massive inconvenience.” 

“No shit,”

Moira narrowed her eyes. “If you seem so certain about this problem, then why have you not done anything about it? Answer me that and maybe we can have a civil conversation.”

Ashe had a definite answer to that question but it was the kind of thing that made her want to cry in a combination of shame and mushy-gushy maternal reasons. Ashe had the opportunity to get rid of the baby and forever rid Moira from her system. No reminders, nothing as permanent as a literal spawn of her enemy, and yet she did _nothing_.

It wasn’t like the option wasn’t already there. Her colleagues were quick to consider it once news of her pregnancy was made public, a hospital a while away but well worth the trip for such a task. 

But Ashe always found herself dismissing the idea, growing oddly protective despite the circumstances that caused her child’s existence. Once her stomach had grown significantly, all bets were off on an abortion and the crew was passing around ideas on where to drop the baby off once it was born.

An orphanage, that same hospital, any poor soul’s doorsteps-they were all suggestions Ashe was quick to shut down. 

It had taken a couple days for Ashe to even consider getting a piss stick and a whole week to even process the results. She had made a silent promise to herself to immediately handle the pregnancy-that it would be better for her, her crew, and her unborn child to put an end to future complications-and yet she hesitated. 

The weeks became months and by then the baby bump was much too full for her to even tag along for missions. She had considered asserting B.O.B as a second in command while she was occupied but it was either his coding or his genuine concern for his mistress that anchored her butler to her. 

Deadlock was free to go on smaller, less dangerous pursuits without their leader able to plot out the more challenging heists and it was beyond Ashe’s knowledge who was “in charge” during her absence. She seldom left her house as of late, either getting visits from her crew for status updates or having one sided conversations with B.O.B or a television program. 

“I’m still waiting for an answer,” Moira said, her tone growing impatient. “I hope I didn’t travel all this way just to experience another one of your temper tantrums.”

“It’s because I didn’t want to, okay! Is that what you wanna hear?”

Moira stared for a long while, looking down at her folded hands. “I see I’ve struck a nerve for you.”

“A _nerve?_ ”

“It’s a sensitive topic, I understand. I’m just surprised by your brashness, or, should I say, responsibly regarding this incident has left me at a lost for words.”

“It do you some good to shut up every once in awhile.”

“Oh, Elizabeth! Are you really going to keep your baby around when things get difficult? I highly doubt this is a healthy environment for an infant, let alone a budding adult.”

Ashe swallowed, knowing she’s already failed to keep the same control of her authority with Moira present. Always the chip in her armor, this woman.

“Abandoning a child,” Ashe said slowly, tears welling up and clouding her vision as she avoided Moira’s judgemental gaze. “That’s the kind of sin that’s plagued my family...why I am the way I am.”

“Elizabeth-.”

“They left me alone but kept me around,” Ashe said, her hand rubbing against her swollen stomach. “If I abandoned my baby before they could even learn to hate me, that’s a burden they’d would carry the rest of their lives.”

Moira furrowed her brow.

“You didn’t just give me a baby, Moira.” Ashe continued. “You gave me a responsibility, a chance to be better. And I’m not gonna waste it.” 

“That’s awfully insightful of you,”

“Yeah well...I’ve had a lot of time to think while you were gone.”

Moira stood up from the chair and stepped closer. Ashe’s first instinct was to flinch but instead she felt the soothing warmth of Moira’s normal hand as it pushed back Ashe’s bangs from her face, fully revealing the gang leader’s normally obscured red eye. Ashe would usually slap the woman’s hand away but the gesture is so uncharastically gentle she doesn’t have any bite in her to fight.

Gently holding her cheek, Moira said. “Elizabeth, I hope you realize you aren’t alone in this.”

“It sure feels like it,” Ashe said. “And I know you’ll leave. You always leave.”

“Understandable,” Moira said. “That is an inevitable part of this transition, but I won’t be gone, Elizabeth.”

Ashe bit back a sob and Moira bent down to kiss her on the forehead, whispering something in Galeige against her skin. Ashe didn’t understand a word of it and yet she feels calmer somehow. She found herself leaning into the touch, the first to wrap her arms around Moira’s waist and bury her face until the tasteful exposure of cleavage. 

She felt like some dumb lovestruck teenager again, the same dumb girl who thought she could spend the rest of her days wiht Jesse as a modern day Bonnie and Clyde. 

This was just one of her many terrible ideas, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to stop her.   
Not B.O.B, not Jessee, not her crew, not even the baby in her stomach that shouldn’t even be there. 

“You seem tense,” Moira said softly, rubbing Ashe’s back in slow circles. Do you want to lay down?”

“Mm hmm,” Ashe murmured, her face not leaving the hollow comforts of Moira’s chest as she was walked from the dining room to her bedroom.

The door shut behind them with a soft click, Moira still supporting all of Ashe’s weight as the gang leader strained to reach the taller woman’s neck and pepper it with kisses. “Red…”

Moira chuckled softly, sitting Ashe down on the bed. “You’re the only one who calls me that. I find it a bit redundant.” 

“You’re the only one whose called me Elizabeth and lived,” Ashe sneered. “Let me have this one.”

Moira shook her head, leaning down on one knee and pulling up Ashe’s night shirt, downright marveling at the expanse of rounded skin and bloated belly it was hiding. 

A bony hand ran over Ashe’s naval, almost red from the concentration of pressure on her sensitive skin. 

“You’re far along,” Moira observed plainly, her tone almost professional. “Does it hurt?”

“My stomach, not much. Been doing a number on my back, though.”

“Best you lay down then,” Moira said, her voice still even and affirmative as she inched herself closer, gripping Ashe’s ass that was threatening the elasticity of the already thin waistband of her pajama pants. 

“My, this is bigger than I remember,” Moira took a handful of Ashe’s left cheek, the ghost of a handprint and prick of her nails from before making Ashe shiver. “You’ve gained weight, dear.” 

“Yeah I’m fat now,” Ashe said, welcoming Moira’s closeness to initiate another hug. All tenderness on her end where in Moira clearly understood the opportunities present now that they were alone. “I think you’ve only gotten skinner the last I’ve seen you.”

“I’ve been experimenting with veganism,” Moira said, adding Ashe’s other ass cheek to her grip. “Too much starch in my diet.”

“Think I can still squeeze into that old uniform with this ass of mine? I still have it.”

“A tempting offer,” Moira chided and Ashe can hear the sound of a zipper coming undone and the excited cock it was hiding slipping out. “But I feel you’ve been embarrassed enough already.”

Ashea laughed softly, figuring she may as well be Moira’s personal slut again if she was going to be carrying the woman’s bastard child. “Should probably give this ol’ girl a twin.”

“Ah, so it is a girl.”

“Fifty-fifty chance,” Ashe replied, laying on her back and spreading her legs. “Stay behind this time and maybe you can see for yourself.”

Moira leaned over her on the bed, stroking her cock to a full erection and slowly penetrating Ashe’s cunt with a push of her hips. 

Her pace started slowly, but soon enough she found that familiar rhythm that started this whole predicament and fucked just a little faster.

Moira could pound her pussy just as good as all those months ago, as if her cock had made a permanent stay in the gang leader’s pale cunt. After Moira ejaculated after Moira insisted her seed be the last thing Ashe remembered from their time together, Ashe knew who she really belonged to. Not herself, not Deadlock, not Route 66 but Moira O’Deorain who didn’t seem to care either way whose life she was ruining. 

That was a sort of detached apathy Ashe could admire if she didn’t learn to dread it so much. 

Ashe wrapped her legs around Moira’s waist, a tricky task but well worth it to have that stretch and ache of a familiar cock overwhelm the six months of strain she’s had to endure alone. 

Moira doesn’t waste time pushing forward, the slick in Ashe’s cunt lubing her thick shaft perfectly as she pushed in and out, shivering at the squeeze that kept pulling her back in. Each time Moira’s hips would knock against Ashe’s belly.

“Y-you feel amazing,” Moira said, her voice low and tremble. “I forgot how much I missed this. How tight you are…”

“I missed this too,” Ashe said, helping Moira undo the buttons of her top and reveal the alabaster tits that had inflated just slightly from the milk. “See something you like, Red?”

Moira grinned. “Perhaps you’ve changed in more ways than one, Elizabeth.” 

She grabbed at Ashe’s sensitive breast, fondling it softly enough to produce a steady stream of milk from her nipple. She bent down to catch some in her mouth, slurping up whatever drops were escaping Ashe’s tit. 

Moira moaned deeply, her pace slowing down as she focused on the swell of her lover’s perky breasts. The two of them combined could still barely fill a training bra, but Ashe found the extra few inches to be a nice trade off if she had to deal with all the extra weight.

“You’ll feed our child well,” Moira said, back to pushing her hips at the breakneck pace of before. “And the one after that…”

Ashe smirked. “Fill me up again, Red. Just like old times.”

Moira quickly came, her excitement painting the inside of Ashe’s pussy for what probably wouldn’t be the last time. 

Moira pulled out with a slump of her shoulders, breathing heavy as she wiped some sweat from her brow. 

Still high off her own orgasm, Ashe felt panic settle the second Moira began to reel back. 

“Wait,” Ashe said, hands grabbing limply at Moira’s arms. She mustered the strength to pull the mother of her child just a bit closer, kissing her once. “Don’t go. Not again.”

“You know I can’t stay here, Ashe. I have responsibilities all around the world that I can’t just shrug off for a child.”

“But you said-.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Moira replied, voice stiff as she gently pushed off Ashe’s needy grip. “But I will be back. That, I promise.”

* * *

“Hold on, now! This is a bath, not a pool party.”

Lily eventually got the gist of her mother’s words, ceasing her splashing and instead tinkering with the wash rag that had floated in her direction. Ashe chuckled, rolling up her sleeves and beginning to scrub the shampoo in Lily’s hair into a nice lather.

Only two years old and her daughter had adopted a healthy head of hair, Ashe’s albinism passing on to give Lily bright white locks with Moira’s genes spotting her cheeks with freckles.  
Lily was strong, small and gentle, much like the roses that adorned Ashe’s arm. Barely able to speak and yet already having a fire in her eyes that Ashe saw in herself. 

She’s gonna be a hassle as a teenager, Ashe thought as she poured a cup of warm water over Lily’s head. Like mother, like daughter.

Scooping up Lily into her arms, she wrapped the girl in a towel and carried her into the bedroom. B.O.B was already standing by the door, doing his best attempt at a smile as he noticed Lily looking his way. 

“You can play with her when she’s dry,” Ashe said, setting Lily down on the bed before she picked out a clean shirt and shorts from a load of laundry. “Wouldn’t want you short circuiting.” 

When Ashe eventually passed away, be it from age or her own incompetence, she well trusted B.O.B to be her daughter’s guardian. More than she trusted anyone else for that matter. 

Her crew didn’t have a protective bone in their bodies and her parents were way out of the question.

She would say the same for Moira but the more she chewed on the thought, wondered what any good a traditional two-parent household did for her, she disliked the idea even more.

Lily would eventually learn where she came from and grow from it, realize that she was the love child of an outlaw and a mad scientist-technically two criminals at that. 

It be quite the origin story, even if she knew she’d be the only one there tell it.


End file.
